At least in this week's column, the grumpier feminists have drowned out the Havrilesky Zombies who adore her every utterance. That doesn't necessarily make me happy (nothing does).

The women who bought Ms. Magazine and read every feminist book in college are looking at the Pussycat Dolls and despairing. (Well, frankly, so does anyone with any love for musical taste and intelligence; I finally saw them. Yecch!) The feminists are disgusted that overt sexual display like this has pre-empted their dream of women doctors, engineers, philosophers and politicians.

Actually, disgusting as the Dolls may be, they are an example of the triumph of feminism. "Women can be anything" was the base expression of feminist philosophy. And that means they can be sleazy whores like the Dolls, anti-feminist conservatives like Phyllis Schlafly, or androgynous villains like Ann Coulter. Genuine freedom does not mean "free to be what I tell you to be." You can argue that some choices have benefits and drawbacks, but if you believe in freedom, it's the choice of the woman what she wants to do.

But a lot of the writers are confusing the tawdriness of corporate media entertainment with the failure of feminism. I'd suggest that people's bad reaction to the Dolls are really caused by AOL Time Warner, News Corp and the other rich guys who control our politics and our lives. But they'd rather pick on easily-mocked sluts than on wealthy corporations. Which is really unfortunate. You can always find replacement sluts, but the real source of the problems - the megacorps - go on untouched.

What if one of the major Democratic candidates - Clinton, let's say - refused to participate in the New Hampshire primary? Besides hurting the income of the New Hampshire TV stations, for whom this is a profit-making occasion better than Christmas ad sales, wouldn't it invalidate the primary as significant?

I don't expect this to happen. After all, Clinton hasn't felt the need to challenge her vote on the Iraq War, and she's dodged her comments about gays in the military; she isn't going to take a dramatic stand on anything. But if a major candidate or two decided that this teeny, tiny state wasn't a genuine measure of anything, and refused to run TV ads or get themselves on the ballot, that might bring welcome attention to other primaries. And the sight of those New England blowhards being told they are no more significant than Tupelo, Mississippi in influencing national politics would be the most entertaining event of the election season.

I was not trying to praise the Pussycat Dolls as feminist icons. Heck, there were women making better music than that long before they came along. But sadly, the slut element won out.

The decisive battle was between Cyndi Lauper and Madonna. Lauper had (and has) an earnestness and intelligence, and a touch of the lonliness and tragedy of the woman who isn't attractive. In her sadder songs she represented everything that Janis Ian talked about in "At Seventeen."

But Lauper disappeared, and Madonna triumphed. Ms. Cicone was never unattractive. And she was a moving target. She went from spring-steel bras to satin, blonde to brunette, an ever-evolving creature, except for the sex she portrayed.

Both spoke out about social causes. But you could believe Lauper. With Madonna it was a feeling as deep as a bumper sticker. And look who has the bigger payday. (I should really say "had," because Lauper is all but retired.) And if you were a young woman wanting to be successful in the music business, the intelligent and sensitive route was clearly wrong.

And that's not downplaying the decision of the men of the music business, but the emphasis should be on BUSINESSmen. Particularly businessmen of the megacorporation variety, who fear risk and experimentation. They know sex sells, and if they thought they could out-Pussycat the current group (like getting away with performing nude) they would. They think exactly that mechanically.

The Pussycat Dolls only stand out from the crowd because their sexuality is that overt. There are something like a hundred "girl groups" in white and black music that are doing precisely the same kind of music, who wish they could perform that cheap and tawdry. Ever watch Soul Train or The Grind?

And as for the person who wondered whether the teens having all that sex were enjoying it? Without any human affection about it? About the "transaction" as he/she put it? Considering that sex of any kind is dangerous and quite often fatal these days, it's about as much fun as slicing up your thighs with a rusty razor blade. But then again, that's popular these days too.